


Little and Broken

by Hailee_jackson



Series: Breaking Point [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Badasstiel, Cas doesn't understand, Cas is a BAMF, Cas is impatient, Cas on a plane, Chuck has visions, Gen, Humor, Like, Sam is desperate, and Dangerous, and seriously badass, whoa dude!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-24
Updated: 2015-07-24
Packaged: 2018-04-10 22:09:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4409624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hailee_jackson/pseuds/Hailee_jackson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part 2 of Breaking Point</p>
<p>Chuck bolted up and started typing rapidly.</p>
<p>“The truest paradox is achieved when the hero, intent on doing the right thing, can only accomplish his goal by seemingly working against it. It is in such fires, sparked by the clash between good and evil, that the unscorched strong are divided from the ashes of the weak.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little and Broken

Castiel waited patiently for the prophet to stop sputtering, but even angels won’t be patient forever. Eventually, he just pushed his way into the house, leaving the door open for whenever Chuck felt like catching up. “Whenever” ended up being fairly soon, and as soon as the door closed again, Castiel whirled on the prophet.

“You’ve been having visions,” he stated, and they both understood that this was neither an interrogation nor a negotiation. Chuck backed up slowly under the seraph’s gaze and nodded unnecessarily. 

It wasn’t far enough, because moments later, Castiel had the prophet’s shirt bunched in his hand and was yelling, “Tell me how far you’ve seen! How do we do it! Answer, dammit!”

Chuck shook his head. “All I’ve seen is up until the part where you walk away from Sam and Charlie, I swear! Look at my computer! You’ll see I stopped writing!”

The angel let his anger simmer for a long moment, and Chuck thought he saw a flash of wings for a moment, but then Castiel let out a long breath and lowered the prophet to the ground. He stalked to the computer and began reading, much like Chuck had upon awakening.

He tilted his head when he finished. “If you haven’t seen any further, how can you be so sure that this is just the beginning?” he asked dangerously.

Chuck shrugged. “You have no idea how this works, Angel. I have a vision, and I write it word for word. Then I wait for the next one. Anyway, how did you get here? Last I saw, your wings were still too broken to even think of flying!”

There was a distinct moment where the almost-human Cas emerged from the austere and powerful Castiel, and Chuck immediately felt much more at ease. 

“I took an airplane!” Cas declared. “It is simply marvelous how humans, even in their limited brains, can work out concepts of celestial origin!”

“So, you enjoyed your flight?” Chuck asked curiously. This was one thing he’d never gotten to see up close before: the angel’s intense interest in humanity.

Cas nodded. “It’s an interesting experience.” 

They were quiet for a moment too long, and a feeling of awkwardness settled over both of them uncomfortably. 

“So, how did you find me?” Chuck asked finally.

Cas shrugged. “Your name was re-imprinted on my brain after Kevin, and your location was easy to track down. I never had a reason to come before,” he added.

Chuck nodded. “No worries, I’m not upset that you didn’t bring me a housewarming present,” he said, cringing as he remembered the literal house warming that had happened the last time he and Cas were together. “How come I don’t have an archangel this time around, though?” he asked.

Cas frowned. “Don’t you know?” he asked before nodding wisely. “Ah, you don’t know anything from the time Sam jumped into the pit until after Kevin died, do you?”

Chuck shrugged. “If that’s what happened between three years, then you’re right. I can’t say I’m complaining, though.”

Cas nodded. “There are no more archangels,” he stated as calmly as one might announce that the winter was officially over. “I killed them all.”

Chuck blinked rapidly, but Cas kept talking.

“Of course, at the time, I was stuffed with all the souls from purgatory and believed myself to be the new god, but that was before I released the Leviathan. I atoned for my transgressions by remaining in purgatory after Dean escaped, of course, until Naomi began controlling me. And then there was Hannah.” The angel trailed off before snapping to attention and staring at Chuck. 

“Are you having another vision yet?” he asked.

Chuck winced. “Well, now that you mention it,” he complained, taking up his position behind his computer. Cas hung over his shoulder like a lonely puppy, desperately hanging on each word as the saga continued.

***

Disentangling himself from the emotional redhead, a stone-faced Sam stood and stretched before walking calmly down to the dungeon. He went about the usual preparations (drawing a devil’s trap, gathering ingredients) and summoned his favorite king of hell.

“What have you gotten yourself into now, you hare-brained fool,” the demon asked, chuckling at his own pun.

Sam straightened to his full height, effectively intimidating his opponent. “I’m done playing, Crowley,” he spat out, “so here’s the deal. Your mother wants me to kill you before she’ll help me remove the mark, but that’s off the table now. Dean’s dead. Short of making him a demon, what will you do to fix it?”

Crowley laughed. “And you assume that I’m going to fix it, why?”

Sam smiled thinly. “Don’t be an idiot. You’re going to help my brother, and you’re going to do it for free, or I’m going to fillet you alive and soak each thinly carved slice in holy water to marinate for the next ten years. Got it?”

“And if there’s nothing I can do?” Crowley asked. “Because, obviously, I have your brother’s soul now, and I can see why angel boy couldn’t help you. What makes you think I’m different?”

“You’re not bound by restraints, you don’t have boundaries, you don’t give a fuck, and you don’t deserve him,” Sam spat out rapidly. “Now you’re going to tell me what the plan is so that it can be set into motion immediately.”

Crowley sniffed. “I think not.” He snapped his fingers to call his hellhounds to his side and stared in shock as his pet was ripped to pieces by an invisible force.

The eerily unnatural smile never left Sam’s face. “Mummy dearest taught me a few more tricks,” he explained, rolling his eyes at Crowley’s astonishment.

“What the hell did you do to her?” Crowley asked, incensed.

“Still believe that I can’t lay a finger on you?” Sam asked in lieu of replying. “I suggest that you start talking, Crowley. Hellhounds aren’t the only things your mother taught me to tear to shreds.” He paused, thinking. “They’re just the only things she taught me to tear entirely, so I might have to get creative.”

Crowley was sure that he heard a literal growl escape the younger Winchester and promised himself never to underestimate him again. This was the second of his pets to perish at Sam’s hands! 

“I might be able to do a little something with something,” he conceded, “but I’ll need Dean’s body to do it, and he won’t have all his memories at first.”

Sam considered for a moment, then nodded. “You’ll wait here for me to explain things to Charlie, then you’ll explain the entire process to me in detail. Should you change an iota of the process, I will be released from my payment, which is withholding a slow, painful death. And I’m not kissing you.”

Crowley knew better than to argue. “Agreed.”

Sam nodded curtly and spun on his heel to exit the room.

***

“That’s it?” Cas asked sharply as Chuck stopped writing.

The prophet nodded. “For now.”

“What’s Crowley’s plan?” 

“I don’t know. I’ll find out when I write it.”

Cas frowned. “But what if it’s one of the things that you don’t see? Then how will we know what is going to happen?” 

Chuck sighed. “And on your left, you’ll see an angel discovering the limitations of living without omniscience.”

Cas frowned for the millionth time. “I don’t understand. I am standing behind you. Who are you talking you? Is this another vision?”

Chuck bolted up and started typing rapidly.

“The truest paradox is achieved when the hero, intent on doing the right thing, can only accomplish his goal by seemingly working against it. It is in such fires, sparked by the clash between good and evil, that the unscorched strong are divided from the ashes of the weak.”

Cas nodded slowly. “That is a true statement, but what does it have to do with Sam and Dean?” he asked.

Chuck sighed. “We have a little while until the next vision, and I’m assuming you aren’t going anywhere. Sit down and let me teach you about a little thing called subtext.”


End file.
